Rugby Warrior (7 page)

M
onday morning was wet and miserable in
Tipperary
, so Eoin decided to get the project work out of the way so he could have a nice break for the rest of the week. He set out all the information he had gleaned, and wrote up his grandad’s anecdote about the death of Dave Gallaher. He would need to seek out the old player’s ghost again, as he was still missing some parts of his story.

The day went quickly and when the rain cleared away Eoin decided to go out for a run. He jogged down to the GAA club to see if his old pals were around, but the only person to be seen was Barney who was fixing the goal nets.

‘How are you, Barney?’ hailed Eoin. ‘The opposition must have been cracking them in at the weekend if you
have to fix those!’ he joked.

‘Arra, sure, we hammered them. A shower from down the county, wouldn’t know much about hurling down there,’ the old groundsman replied. ‘How are you
getting
on up in Dublin? I heard you were getting good at the rugby.’

‘Ah, where did you hear that Barney?’

‘Well now, your grandfather comes down to me nearly every day for a chat. He’s very fond of you, you know. He said you remind him of how he used to play the game. He was a bit of a rugby player himself, I think.’

‘He was indeed. He could have played for Ireland, they say,’ replied Eoin.

‘And sure maybe you will some day,’ said Barney ‘Unless you stick with the football and hurling of course!’

Eoin laughed and jogged away, happy to see one of the characters of his hometown. It was people like Barney that he missed when he was away. The faces and places he took for granted while growing up were precious now he was living in Dublin for most of the year.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as he turned the corner into the main street, because there standing
outside
the newsagents with two other boys was Dylan.

‘Howya, Dyl. Did you get down OK that night?’ he asked.

Dylan stopped talking to his pals and turned towards Eoin.

‘I was fine. What’s it to you?’ he replied.

‘All right, have it like that if you want,’ Eoin came back, ‘but you have no argument with me. Give me a shout if you want to sort it out. I’ll be down the Gaels in the morning.’

He jogged off up the street, still perplexed as to why Dylan had such a problem with him. He wasn’t too impressed with the company he was keeping either. The Moylan brothers were the cause of most of the trouble in Eoin’s primary-school class before he left for Dublin.

When Eoin got home, his mum and dad were waiting for him. His dad had a serious face, and Eoin suddenly felt concerned when he sat down.

‘What’s wrong, is it Grandad?’ he asked.

‘No, no, nothing like that at all,’ his mother said. ‘Your dad met one of his fishing pals today and he had some interesting information to tell him.’

‘My fishing pal is the local Garda Superintendent during the week,’ explained his dad. ‘I asked him about Dylan and he was telling me that he has come to their attention recently.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Eoin. ‘But how? He’s been in Dublin since September …’

‘He’s not in any trouble,’ said Mr Madden, ‘well not with the Guards anyway. It seems Eoin’s father is a “major gangland figure” as they say on the television news. His mother is a good woman, however, and she walked out on him one day and took Dylan and his little sister with her. He has one older brother who has already been in prison and his mother was terrified that Dylan would join him there. Dylan isn’t even his real name, and nor is Coonan. They’ve been moving around, trying to keep one step ahead of the father who is very keen to have him back.

‘Now, you must never breathe a word of this to anyone, and certainly don’t let on to Dylan that you know,’ warned his father. ‘But I think it would be the right thing to do to make up with him and try to be his friend. He’s had a hard life and he needs good pals.’

Eoin was stunned at this news, which certainly explained some of Dylan’s behaviour and that strange phone conversation in the dormitory. He agreed that he would try to sort his differences with Dylan.

E
oin didn’t bump into his classmate around town all week; on Friday afternoon he decided to call around to his house. He knew the street Dylan lived on, but didn’t know the number, so he called into the newsagent on the corner.

‘I’m sorry, do you know where the Coonans live, please?’ he asked.

‘Why do you ask?’ replied the assistant, suspiciously.

‘I’m in school with Dylan,’ Eoin replied.

‘Up in Dublin?’ she countered.

‘Yeah. I play Gaelic with him as well …’

‘OK, you must be Eoin Madden so. They’re in number six, two doors down. Knock twice on the window and then on the door,’ she told him.

Eoin was a bit surprised at the rigmarole involved in
calling to Dylan, but slowly realised it might have been something to do with what his father had learned.

He did as the shop assistant had said, and the door was opened by a girl a little bit younger than him with red hair. She looked him up and down and asked him his name.

‘Eoin Madden,’ he replied. ‘I’m in school with Dylan.’

‘Ah, I’ve heard a bit about you. He’s upstairs on the computer. I’m Caoimhe.’

She called up to her brother, and shrugged her
shoulders
when he grunted his reply.

‘Have you any sisters?’ Caoimhe asked Eoin.

Eoin was a bit taken aback. ‘Eh, no,’ he spluttered. ‘No brothers either.’

‘I was just wondering,’ she replied. ‘I know nearly all the girls in the convent school and there’s none called Madden.’

‘How do you like the school?’ he asked.

‘Ah, it’s all right,’ Caoimhe replied. ‘I’d talk to anyone, but some of them are a bit snooty. There’s a good library there though. I prefer books to kids most of the time.’

They chatted for a couple of minutes more before Dylan finally came down stairs.

‘All right, Eoin, what’s up?’ he asked.

‘Howya, Dylan, you want to go for a run?’ asked Eoin.

‘Nah, I’m busy,’ said Dylan.

A woman came into the hallway. ‘Come on now, Dyl, you’ve been up there for hours. A bit of air will do you good. I need milk and bread, too.’

She handed Dylan a five euro note and held open the front door. ‘OK, Mum,’ he growled.

The boys wandered down the street silently, before Eoin eventually broke the ice.

‘Look, Dyl, I had nothing to do with you not being picked, but you can choose not to believe that if you want. I’m not your enemy, and I even thought I was your friend. That school can be a rough place for a new boy – I had a few problems myself there last year – but it’s a lot easier if you’re hanging around with a good bunch of lads.’

‘I am,’ said Dylan. ‘Richie and his crew are decent enough.’

‘Yeah, well, I didn’t see much of that myself, but even so it’s pointless to keep blanking the rest of us in the dorm.’

Dylan stayed silent for another minute, before he stopped and turned to look at Eoin.

‘OK, I’ve been a bit of a brat, I suppose, but it’s hard to fit in there,’ Dylan started. ‘You’re such a legend already in Castlerock. I know I’m a good scrum-half – and I’m
probably better than Rory – but because I’m new I have to be twice as good as everyone else to get a look in.’

Eoin nodded. ‘I know, and I had a bit of that myself last year. But acting like a spoilt brat only reduces your chances of getting in. You need to work at it, maybe even switch positions – there might be a slot on the wing now Shane has a dodgy ankle.’

‘Do you reckon?’ asked Dylan. ‘Would McRae allow me to switch to the wing?’

‘Well, on the Bs to start with, I suppose,’ suggested Eoin. ‘But you have the pace and you’re a tough one when you need to be. I think you’d make a cracking wing.’ Eoin put his arm on Dylan’s shoulder. ‘Look, let’s start this year off again on a better foot. I don’t have any other Ormondstown Gaels with me up in Dublin, so I’m relying on you to be my buddy. You know I don’t get on with Richie, but fair play to you if you do. I’m not going to say anything to put you off him, but just be careful there.’

‘Ah, I know,’ replied Dylan, ‘He was decent enough when I was fighting with you, but I suspect he won’t want to know me now we’re mates again.’

T
hey had a good kick-about that day in the Gaels, with Eoin suggesting a few moves that Dylan might add to his game to make him a potential
Castlerock
winger. By the end of the day they were
laughing
and joking like best buddies.

Dylan was happy to take a lift back to Dublin too, and it was a happy, pleasant group that pulled up the drive to Castlerock College at the end of the mid-term break.

‘Thanks, Mr Madden,’ said Dylan as the boys took their bags out of the boot of his car.

Eoin hung back to thank his dad.

‘I’m glad to see things have worked out better,’ said Dad. ‘He’s a nice young fella, just needs a bit of stability in his life, I’d reckon.’

‘Cheers, Dad. I’ll keep in touch,’ said Eoin. ‘And try to
reply to my texts!’

‘I will, I will,’ laughed his dad, ‘You young lads don’t know how busy life is for parents. I don’t have time to be composing texts. And to be honest, I’m not entirely sure how this new phone works either …’

Eoin chuckled to himself as he climbed the stairs to the dormitory.

As he turned the corner he bumped into Dylan, who was talking to Mr McCaffrey. It was a serious conversation.

‘Sorry. I didn’t see you,’ Eoin apologised.

Dylan shrugged and looked at Eoin, but didn’t say a word. Eoin went into the dorm and shut the door. Alan bounced up from the bed, where he was reading a zombie comic.

‘Howya, Eoin, have a good break?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, not bad at all. Got a bit of work done. You?’

‘Boring. Rained a lot. Tried to start work on my
project
about Ancient Greece, but there always seemed to be something more interesting on TV. I watched a
documentary
about goats at one stage.’

‘Ha! Ancient Greek goats I hope? I’m pretty much done on the research for my thing so I’ll get down to writing it this week.’

Dylan walked in just then, but besides the usual
‘hellos’ he was obviously not in the mood for a chat and lay down on his bed and plugged in his earphones. Eoin noticed the music player wasn’t even switched on.

Dylan just didn’t want to talk.

Although he was friendly enough, Dylan still hadn’t had anything more than a basic conversation with any of his schoolmates by Wednesday afternoon, when the Under-14s lined out for their first league game.

By coincidence, the match was against St Osgur’s, the team they had beaten in the final at the Aviva at the end of the previous season.

‘I’m sure these guys will be stoked about this game.’ said Mr McRae, ‘And from what I saw of them in the final they’re a nifty side. But if you stick to the basics she’ll be right. You all know your role and your
responsibilities
. So go out there and show them that the final was no flash in the pan – Castlerock are the best team in the province at this age group, and those guys better remember that.’

The team cheered as the coach’s stirring words echoed around the dressing room. It was their first chance to play in the school since the Aviva, too, and there was a big turnout of boys from the older classes.

It was clear from early on that St Osgur’s hadn’t
forgotten
the final and were keen to hand out some revenge. Richie Duffy didn’t help, either, singing ‘cham-pion-es, cham-pion-es’ as the ball was put into the first scrum of the game. The referee stopped play and walked over to Eoin.

‘Ask your opera singer to keep it zipped, please,
captain
,’ he snapped.

St Osgur’s steamed upfield and were 6-0 up within ten minutes as Castlerock, defending desperately, kept conceding penalties. The first time Duffy got the ball he foolishly tried a sidestep and run, but the visitors were only waiting for such an opportunity and he was
flattened
by three large forwards coming at him from left, right and centre.

The three rose to their feet sporting huge grins as their team-mates started singing ‘Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life’ before the referee waved his finger at them.

Richie was battered and bruised, but after a couple of minutes he was ready to resume his position. While many of the Castlerock boys weren’t too fond of Duffy, and even understood why the St Osgur’s players had done it – Richie was a member of THEIR team and he needed to be protected, and avenged.

The Castlerock pack won a series of scrums and rucks
which took them into the opposition 22 when Rory fired the ball out to Eoin at out-half. Eoin spotted a gap and went for it, and with a sharp injection of pace he burst through the flailing hands of the St Osgur’s defence. In half a second he was clear, and touched the ball down between the posts. He took the
congratulations
of his team-mates before ushering them back to half-way. He took the conversion himself, and for a second he thought he was back among the blackberry bushes of Ormondstown. Just as he did all summer in the GAA grounds, his kick split the air between the goalposts, and Castlerock were 7-6 in front.

At half-time Mr McRae was positive about their
performance
, but he took Eoin aside for a private chat just before the second half kicked off.

‘Duffy still looks a bit groggy. I’ll give him five minutes and then I’ll take him off. I was thinking about moving Mikey O’Reilly into centre but that leaves us short of a winger. What do you think?’ the coach asked.

‘Dylan is keen to play on the wing, and he’s definitely got more speed than Joseph,’ replied Eoin. ‘He won’t let you down.’

Mr McRae nodded, but did not reply. He looked over at the bench where the replacements were huddled.
Dylan was nowhere to be seen.

‘Mr McCaffrey took him away during the first half. Something’s up at home I think.’